The fate of the forlorn
by Phaelas
Summary: ‘The king has finally lost his mind, was the word that had spread throughout the army.’ And it’s those who were once closest to him who take the worst of it.
1. Chapter 1

Title: The fate of the forlorn

Author: Phaelas

Rating: PG-13

Summary: '_The king has finally lost his mind_, was the word that had spread throughout the army.' And it's those who were once closest to him who take the worst of it.

Author's notes: A new, strange universe that hurried into my mind in search of more angst. I wrote the 11 parts of this story in 7 months, and now that it is finally finished, I figured it was time to post this here.The story has been up on my Livejournal for a longer time, so this might be familiar to you.

More author's notes: Even though this fic starts out with a little Hephaistion/Bagoas, that is not the main point of this story… somehow it feels important to mention that. It's not even that much about the slash.

Warnings: Angst! And not something for a quick read, as it expects the reader to play close attention, especially in the later chapters.

Feedback: Please. :)

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"Dance for me, Bagoas."

The words were spoken softly. Bagoas' eyes were deep and unreadable in the darkness, the light of the flames that seemed to be all around licking across his slender form, making him blend in… Moving with the agility of a cat, the young Persian did not hesitate the obey Hephaistion's command. Long, sparkling dark hair swirled as the eunuch spun and spun, arched, dropped, rose and let his body move in his dance with ever more abandon.

The Macedonian sat glued to the chair, blue eyes following the object of his attention closely. How those lean muscles moved beneath the perfect skin. How those dark eyes seemed to be forever focused on his own, so mysterious in the boy's silence… "Ah, Bagoas… the most exquisite being I ever laid eyes on…" A hard breath left his lips. "Kiss me." It was command or a question but it mattered little.

It was as if the other had needed no time at all to move closer. Bagoas' dark hair surrounded them both, shielded them from light and any alien gazes. His lips were cool and soft. A sweet essence filled Hephaistion's mouth, soothing his parched mouth and throat as he gulped down the clear water that spilled forward…

With a small mewl, Hephaistion stirred beneath his blanket and a moment later his eyes opened. His left eye stared into a mass of black hair, his right eye peered over it and its gaze rested on the inside of the simple tent. A new day.

Eyes closed again quickly, and his eyebrows knitted together as he absentmindedly stroked the dry skin of the young Persian's arm. Fresh water…

He swallowed with visible trouble and a sigh left his lips. Finally, he rose himself on one elbow and stared down on the frail face of the eunuch. The beautifully curved lips were cracked. Hephaistion ran one finger over a still slightly bruised cheekbone, and another sigh followed the first.

When he left the tent, the camp was just awakening. Another long day of travelling was ahead, because they had to move on, were they ever to reach the other side of this desert. The dark-haired man stared out over the sandy plains, turned away from where the larger tents stood huddled together, his eyes squeezed against the already bright sun. There was not a trace of humidity in the air, it seemed, and his tongue fruitlessly flicked over his painful lips, a new frown settling over his forehead.

Every day proved a new challenge. In more ways than one.

Hephaistion stiffened as the raw voice called out somewhere behind him. Alexander was yelling again, to anyone, to no one, to everyone and especially those who meant well. And who didn't? Other voices could try to calm him down, try to argue, but their attempt would be in vain.

_The king has finally lost his mind_, was the word that had spread throughout the army.

Hephaistion tried to shut out all sounds, but didn't miss the rush of the tent flap behind him. He spun around and was just in time to catch the eunuch from leaving, his hand closing around the thin wrist. "Bagoas, where are you going?"

The young man's face was dirty, his hair dull, his body beyond lean. The brown eyes filled with distress. Some, the desert had struck worse than others.

"I must go to him!"

"No," Hephaistion told him, his voice friendly but urgent, and a his head gave a firm shake. "Stay here, Bagoas."

Exhausted as he was, the Persian still managed to put up quite a struggle, but Hephaistion's arms relentlessly closed around him. "Save your strength, Bagoas, please!" he urged softly.

The Persian boy stilled for a moment, and both their gazes were attracted to where a shaking man crawled in front of their king. But Alexander hardly seemed to notice him, just walked around and continued his tirade… with every hard word, Bagoas flinched.

"I must go to him!" He twisted in Hephaistion's grasp. "He needs me, I must! Release me!"

Hephaistion kept his voice down. "Listen to me. Listen to me, Bagoas! He doesn't want you there, he needs no one anymore. We must let Alexander fight his own demons."

Had the young man truly forgotten?

"He left you to _die_." The words were a desperate plea. Finally, Bagoas slumped down in his arms, his knees giving away as dry sobs shook his body. The soft wail coming from the once perfect mouth was not one of any language but that of the heart. There was no one who wouldn't understand it.

The king's two forlorn lovers caught some attention, and heads were shaken in sympathy.

Hephaistion's face scrunched up as if in pain, and his eyes traced across the younger's face, so heartbreaking in its grief. The eunuch's pain wouldn't go away by pretending it wasn't there, even if he was past the point of feeling any pity for himself… He fought back the tears that burned right behind his eyelids. _Don't waste the water._

Alexander's ring had left a darker spot on the Persian's face, there where it had created a bruise on the moment the king had struck Bagoas, the one most loyal to him. When he had left him on the open sand, not once looking back, and all other feet passed the king's Persian lover by as well.

But shared fates formed joined souls. Hephaistion had gone back.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hephaistion."

The voice that called his name was unfamiliar and held no respect, and Hephaistion glanced over his shoulder with a quick move. His eyes grew dark. "What?" he snapped.

The young man standing in the doorway of his tent was one of Alexander's squires, he knew, one of the few that still held the king's favour. That was bound to make anyone more arrogant than they should be, but it was not like Hephaistion had the right to call upon any respect these days.

"King Alexander demands your presence. Now."

So it was finally time.

Hephaistion reassuringly rested his hand on Bagoas' shoulder as he noticed the Persian stiffen, then turned his back to the squire. "Does he. How interesting." Without paying any further attention to the young man, he resumed his previous activity of moving the simple comb through Bagoas' dark hair. Now that they had finally encountered a river, finally reached the beginning of what had to be fertile land, the whole army had come to a halt and had set to drinking the cold water and cleaning all the dirt that clung to their sweaty bodies after their long march. Hephaistion had waited until the first crowd was gone, then pulled himself and the young eunuch over for a bath as well. But Bagoas was not very inclined to clean himself. Or do anything at all that concerned his own well-being.

He sighed in frustration as he still sensed the squire's presence behind him. "Was that all, lad?"

"I have brought you the message of your king," the other responded on a haughty tone.

Hephaistion's lips formed a bitter smile. "Of course you did, that's what you're for. Now get out."

After an annoyed huff they were finally left alone, but it was not two seconds later the tent flap was pushed aside again. Hephaistion spun around, ire finally flaring up in his eyes, then came to a an abrupt halt. "Ptolemy."

It had been long since he had spoken to the other man. It had been long since he had had any company besides silent Bagoas. Ptolemy looked stern, his eyes held a hardness that Hephaistion had never seen before in there. There was a strength in this man, he knew, that matched his own, and even in these hard times his loyalty had never faltered. But no one had kept a light spirit in this army the past weeks, and certainly not those close to Alexander.

Hephaistion glanced backwards, but Bagoas just sat still. He sighed, and there was a sharp edge to his voice when he addressed Ptolemy. "Let me guess. You… _overheard_."

"I followed Alexander's… lad over here," the general responded with a friendly if somewhat rough voice.

Their eyes met. _He means no harm. Remember the old times that are no longer._ Hephaistion's face softened, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "So?"

"I do not deny you the right to tell his squire off, but Alexander's orders are not to be taken lightly these days."

Hephaistion sent the other a humourless smile, but his words were not unfriendly. "I appreciate your concern, but I can assure you not even I would be as foolish as to ignore his command."

He had expected Alexander would not ignore him forever. They were a too big part of each other to just – let go. Without a second thought…

Ptolemy's light eyes rested on his own, calm and serious. "I realise that."

A deep tiredness suddenly overwhelmed Hephaistion, caused by long weeks of travel, and above all long weeks of frustration. No one had helped him. He had kept himself isolated. It finally seemed to be taking its toll, even on someone with a will as strong as his own… _Leave me alone, Ptolemy. Leave _us_! We don't need your advice, not anymore._ He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I have to ask you, Ptolemy, but _what_ is it you're doing here then?"

He eyed the shorter man warily as he stepped closer, Ptolemy's face still in its constant frown. The general hesitated, then dropped his voice. "You realise your power."

"My power." The dark-haired's voice held a trace of sarcasm.

Ptolemy's frown deepened. "I would never try to _blame_ you, but ever since you and Alexand-"

"Ptolemy," Hephaistion interrupted curtly, understanding and a hint of irritation showing in his eyes. "I hold no such power over him. I did not cause his madness, nor can I cure it." Was he Ptolemy's last, hopeless try? His mouth tensed as he turned away from the other man's gaze. Had there been something he could do, wouldn't he have done it right away?

And his eyes rested on Bagoas. The Persian beauty, still sitting with his back towards them, had turned his head to the side and stared at the inside of the tent. Listening. Thinking. An alertness in his form that Hephaistion hadn't seen in a long time.

He grimaced slightly. "You'd better go, or Alexander may come to think you're helping me plot something against him."

"You won't give up now!" Ptolemy told him, his voice stern and relentless its conviction.

"Give up?" Hephaistion snickered. There was little to give up. What he had, he protected. _If I can…_ He shook his head, and his voice was brisk. "I tell the truth, Ptolemy. There's more to this than you know of... I don't know what will happen." From what he had learned of this new Alexander, there was little hope. The poison that was power had crushed the person he once was, as a climber would be crushed when the rock he tried to lift himself onto suddenly broke and dragged him along into the cold and dark depths beneath. _Death._

"I ask nothing you are not willing to give, Hephaistion," the other man spoke from right behind him. "I just ask you to try."

Hephaistion could almost feel Ptolemy's eyes joining his own on the form of the young eunuch, and he had to suppress his rising anger. The general would not dare say aloud what was on tip of his tongue, Hephaistion knew, and that was the only good part of this whole conversation. "We will see," he replied.

Ptolemy left.


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: a bit of a shocking chapter with evil cliffhanger...

_------------------_

_I fear for you. _

After being fixated so long on just getting Bagoas and himself through the worst, Hephaistion was suddenly faced with a situation that was hard to place. It shouldn't have been so sudden, he should have thought this over long before… where would his own future leave the young Persian? _Wherever /I/ am, if possible_. But that could pose a problem.

"I'm going to see Alexander," he told the other quietly.

A breath, then Bagoas' body slowly began rocking forward and backwards, a slow rhythm but already more of a reaction than Hephaistion was used to. Approval? Fear? The eunuch let his eyes stray blankly through the tent, a sigh escaping his lips.

"Hey," he urged gently, putting his hand on Bagoas' shoulder. "Don't go anywhere, alright? If I haven't returned when we're breaking up camp…" He hesitated shortly. "…go to Ptolemy."

He should have asked for that last favour, in return for trying his best with Alexander. Not that he believed Ptolemy would refuse him if Bagoas came to his tent to ask for protection, but he wasn't sure the boy would even do as he suggested. He was just as capable of just sitting here and staying behind.

And the eunuch gave no response other than the continued rocking.

Hephaistion had to bite back his irritation. But becoming angry never worked… sometimes it felt as if Bagoas _expected_ nothing but anger. As if he was trying to _make_ the former general take him by the shoulders and shake him until some kind of answer would leave his mouth.

Hephaistion shook his head slowly, intent on turning around and leaving without another word, when suddenly the other's eyes shot up at him.

Dark and unreadable as always. No emotion displayed on the thin face, but this time an intensity in their depths that nearly made Hephaistion back away. '_Go!_', the other seemed to tell him. Or perhaps it was '_stay!_'. Or just '_do whatever you have to, what are you waiting for?_'?

At least the other had heard him. At least he was _there_.

Hephaistion's face softened and he nodded at the younger man, and after a sudden decision he stepped forward and pressed his forehead to Bagoas'. Even if there was no true understanding, he might just as well pretend there was.

Slender fingers brushed through his hair, where gone in an instant as he leant back. Hephaistion left the tent with a new strength in his step.

-----------------

He rested a calming hand on his stallion's neck as the beast was startled at a sudden movement once more. Men looked up, then quickly looked away – either because the sunlight was too bright or simply because the soldiers were afraid to meet his eyes. If the king's disgraced lover was riding towards the imperial tent, his eyes hard and his horse darting under him, sensing the nervousness from its rider… what would their thoughts be? But the dark-haired rider carried himself with pride, as did his steed.

Hephaistion had picked up the young beast in the time he had still been a general, and had kept a close eye on it while in the desert. Unquenchable hunger and thirst had cost many valuable mounts their lives. But Rain, as he had called the grey stallion in remembrance of previous times and hope for new ones, also guarded itself well. Even Bagoas still feared its temper.

Hephaistion wondered what would become of him. The thoughts seemed of no use and he had banned them from his mind for a long time… _I am stronger than he is. The times he could hurt me as bad as I hurt him are over…_ after all, leaving Alexander behind was not really an option he could make himself consider. And if he wouldn't leave his childhood friend alone, then it was the insane king who controlled his future. _No! I would leave for Bagoas' sake. And I will not – never – become like him. Either of them._

But the situation had not changed since Alexander's accusations. He wasn't called back and he wasn't chased further away. And now Alexander had made up his mind… and all he could do was wait to hear it. _But I'm stronger. I'm trapped but I'm stronger. _

He gracefully dismounted and handed over his reins to one of the guards without a word or a glance.

Alexander contrasted with everything around. His eyes were as fierce and alive as ever, a brightness matching the fiery rays sent down by Apollo each day… only a very select few would dare to oppose him. Or even to be honest.

Hephaistion met the king's eyes without wavering. Alexander stood in the middle of his tent, amidst his royal belongings, as if he had waited there for a long time.

They both observed and renewed their data. And if there was anything Hephaistion noticed, it was that the other locked more emotions away with each passing second, emptying his heart while dulling his eyes until… they had _both_ set up all their guards. _Ptolemy, how desperate are you? _

Alexander finally opened his mouth. "You came." It was spoken softly and in wonder.

Hephaistion was equally left in wonder. "Of course I came. What did you expect me to do?"

The blond man strolled closer, halted two meters away. The silence sent shivers over Hephaistion's skin.

Alexander never disappointed. When he looked up again, sharp daggers shot from his eyes, raising Hephaistion's alert to its fullest, and the king's voice changed into a low and familiar hiss. "After doing your best to ruin my life and undermine my authority even now, I wouldn't have been surprised if you had just fled. I admire your bravery."

Hephaistion stood paralysed as he realised how deep the hateful words still hurt him. He took a deep breath and pulled up his walls higher. _There's no way out before it's over. Plunge into the deep_. "Ruining _your_ life?"

Alexander cocked his golden-haired head. "I do wonder what it is you're after. The throne? Personal revenge?"

A muscle in Hephaistion's jaw quivered. "Alexander…" _Why? What cruelty makes me still feel bothered? I am stronger then this! _

Another red welt mercilessly followed the first. "How _dare_ you even speak to me! What madness drives you, Hephaistion!" Alexander lashed out and flashed a cold, mocking smile. He was enjoying this.

_Enjoying this... Damn you, Alexander! Damn you!_

The king's words were so soft and slow that they seemed a scream for attention. "And what madness drove you when you took my boy into your bed?"

That was the wrong way to tread. For anyone.

Hephaistion's hands turned to trembling fists, and he called upon all his self-restraint. "How dare you speak to _me_ like that! After all that I gave up for you! I'm sick of this, Alexander. And I'm sick of your behaviour, I'm sick of who you've become! I'm sick of…" His breath was without words, but when seeing Alexander's triumphant smile his voice thundered over the smaller man again. "By the Gods, Alexander, I saved him from his death! Took care of him when no one did! Don't _dare_ accuse me of anything!"

A look of utmost contempt was thrown his way. "Oh is that what they call taking care!"

"You don't know what happened between us and neither does anyone else! You-" He stopped, some part of him suddenly realising that this was a road that would lead nowhere. Not that he _really_ cared any longer but-

The other's punch had amazing speed and force. Hephaistion's head spun and he lost his balance, his hand reached out for the nearest table in vain as he fell to his knees. A painful hand closed around his jaw. "Do you think me stupid?" The voice was a low, trembling hiss.

A short laugh escaped Hephaistion mouth. "Well the _rest_ of the army sure does." He tasted the blood in his mouth, and his lips turned to a grimace as he glanced up and breathed: "Are you jealous, Alexander?" With a rash movement he freed himself and rose, backing away to a safe distance as despair changed his anger to something cold as ice.

But the blond man burned bright and hot as ever, fury dancing in his eyes. "I wouldn't miss a slave! And I certainly do not miss _you_! But you took something that is _mine_-"

"I can tell, since this is the way you always treat your property," Hephaistion interrupted with a sneer. "But admit it, you didn't think of him _once_ during the past weeks. Not of either of us. We're nothing to you."

"Why would I think of you! You think yourself worthy of that, after all that you did to me! You _are_ nothing!"

It was impossible to keep the deep resentment that seemed to be rushing through his body out of his voice. "So ironic _you_ should be the one to tell me that. Considering you've lost _everything_ that was once dear to you! You're _all alone_."

It was time to leave.

Alexander's hand clawed around his shoulder and furious eyes stared up at him. "I own an army. _You_ are the one with nothing, now that you're without me. You should see yourself, Hephaistion, your hopeless affection for the little whore so pitiful it is almost amusing. Ah, if only you could see with a clear eye what has become of you!"

Silence.

"Don't worry, you won't ever have to concern yourself with me again. Now just try to forget, Alexander, and find out that really, you _can't_."

Long strides carried him into a new try at life. _I make my own destiny._

----------------

Alexander remained behind in his tent, his body shaking. A few unsteady steps took him to his chair. "Guards!" his cracked voice called after a few moments.

Their faces were blank and obedient as they entered and bowed.

Alexander took a deep breath, then his mouth formed the familiar words. "Kill him."


	4. Chapter 4

Hephaistion strode out of Alexander's tent, trying hard to control the hammering of his heart.

Only two steps later realised he was forgetting something. _Rain._ He glanced over his shoulder with a sudden rush of panic as he didn't see his horse, turned around quickly, but Alexander's guards were standing stiffly, staring ahead of themselves. "Where did you take my horse?"

"We had our orders."

Hephaistion's mouth opened, ready to retort with a snarl, but he reconsidered and just sucked his lungs full of air. _It's too late! _It was clear Alexander had planned to take away everything he had. From the moment he got here.

_I have myself. That's more than he can say. _

He backed away, then resolutely turned his back to everything that he would now for once and for all leave behind. He swallowed away the sudden lump in his throat. _Farewell, Rain, my companion…_ It took all his strength to keep his head up high as he stalked away.

But the sun was bright and too light for his eyes. He ignored the dull ache in his heart, ignored the people around, and slowly bowed his head.

They couldn't take the tent then. He wouldn't mind to sleep out in the open, or rather, he'd survive… But it might just be one hardship too much for Bagoas. If the young man found no will to go on, Hephaistion was not sure _what_ to do.

It wasn't hard to turn invisible until he reached what may be his last clear destination.

Bagoas was waiting for him in front of the tent. Something seemed to be different about him, but hadn't everything changed? It wasn't so strange the Persian would feel it before he really knew it, after the conversation he had shared with Ptolemy earlier.

Hephaistion approached him with hurried steps. "We're leaving. Alexander took Rain so we can only take a minimum of our possessions… we'll have to leave the tent. Come, will you help me?"

Bagoas was still eyeing him strangely, and Hephaistion halted and threw him a quizzical glance. He almost expected the other to speak.

And he did.

"I'm going back to Alksander."

It was spoken with a calm confidence that Hephaistion hadn't ever heard before in the frail voice.

For a moment, he just stared, then new anguish swept through him. "No you're not!" he snapped. "I have just seen Alexander, he doesn't want us here any longer." He hoped with all his frustrated heart the young man wouldn't put up a struggle as he had done times before. The desire to return to Alexander surfaced every now and then in Bagoas' mind, and every time it did, his annoyance grew deeper. _Get a grip, boy, because you're really a boy no longer. Stand strong, and become the man no one thinks you'll ever be. _

Bagoas looked him in the eye, his expression calm and deadly serious. "I'm going back to Alksander," he repeated, and after a hesitant silence: "Come with me to him. Go back to Alksander."

It took all of Hephaistion's effort to bite back his irritation. "We're not going back to Alexander, it'll be both our deaths! I know he is important to you, but the Alexander you know is no longer there. Get it out of your head. You'll have to go with me."

"No!" Bagoas raised his voice but it still sounded admirably calm. "I will not leave Alksander. You cannot take me, I choose myself. I will go to him alone." His eyes dropped down to the dusty ground.

Hephaistion stood frozen as he felt the world slip through his fingers. He stared at the top of Bagoas' head, the dark hair that was finally gleaming again, as in the times the Persian had been Alexander's… _If he has ever been anything else. _

The desert was left behind, gone, and along with it, everything.

With a straight face brushed past the other, pushed the tent flap aside. There were only few things he could take. Water skin, food, weapons… what more? First goal was to just – get out of here. Then he'd try to find some village, somewhere… Find some work, buy himself some time to find out what he wanted from now on. Learn their language. Get killed trying. Get out of here.

"Hephaistion…"

His head snapped up at the face in the tent opening.

"I believe your fate is with Alexander as well. I have to tell you, if you cannot see it yourself."

Those words were everything he didn't need to hear.

Anger, mixed with deep frustration, welled up inside of him, and harsh and hurtful words burned on his lips. "Don't dare tell me to choose the coward's way out as you do. Leave!"

_My fate is no longer that of he who was once called Hephaistion! Alexander killed Hephaistion with his own hands. All that's left is me… left unbroken. There must be a life without Alexander. _

Bagoas was gone now. Had run back to his king, after everything he done for the boy. _My last favour to you, Alexander_, he thought bitterly. With all his strength he numbed his heart as one, disobedient tear left his eye.

Glancing around one last time, he closed his bag and determinedly picked it up.

The calm and relaxed murmur of voices and sounds around him almost seemed a mockery of all that had happened in the past. Hephaistion strode through the camp he was leaving behind, meeting the eyes of those who seemed familiar, even if all they did was look away. Determined not to flee, as Alexander wanted him to.

As more and more faces passed, and his heart grew heavier with each step, he had to ignore the urge to glance over his shoulder. He had the strange feeling - or was it hope? – that someone was coming after him, to say goodbye, tell him to come back, or whatever. He didn't know what would upset him more… That there was no one, that he was truly alone and forgotten, or that perhaps there was someone. Whoever it was. He unconsciously quickened his pace.

It was only a few minutes later, when he had reached the river, that he suddenly heard them behind him. _Hooves. _

A brown steed came speeding toward him, and he had no doubt that the rider was indeed coming for him – the man raised one hand in greeting. Hephaistion raised a hand to his brow to shield his eyes from the sun.

Only on the last moment, as the other dropped to the ground, he recognized the rider as Ptolemy.

A sudden realisation made Hephaistion see that he was not quite sure he wanted to hear what the other had to say. It would only make things harder.

For doubt nagged at him. _Perhaps I'm not meant to leave after all._

He should be relieved that he had finally freed himself, yet what he felt was reluctance. Reluctance to fight for a new future, reluctance to leave everything behind. Despite all. No matter how sure he knew there was nothing else for him now… How easily would Ptolemy be able to sway him, if that was his plan?

"Hephaistion," the other's deep voice addressed him. His grey eyes were clouded, his mouth grim.

Hephaistion didn't answer, unsure of what to say.

Ptolemy sighed, then reached forward and clasped an arm around his shoulders. The dark-haired nearly recoiled, but the other's grip was firm. "Good luck. I hope your future brings you more than Alexander would ever give you."

He was released. Confused, Hephaistion didn't utter a word until the other had already mounted his horse with a much practised leap.

"I tried, but there was no hope!" he pleaded, shocked by the emotion in his own voice.

The grey eyes looked down at him sombrely. "I understand. Good luck, my friend."

Ptolemy raised his hand in a gesture of goodbye, and Hephaistion did the same, battling his emotions. _Goodbye._

He would follow the path next to the river, upwards. The whole army had spread along its left bank, but the edge of the camp had to be near. His eyes were still focused in a blind stare on where Ptolemy had head off to, but the trees, growing gratefully near the large stream, already shielded the leaving general from view.

Hephaistion turned back to where the path was heading, and took the next step.


	5. Chapter 5

The pain was always just below the surface. There was nothing that didn't remind him of the way things were, and the way things should have been. He buried that part of his feelings time and time again under layers of anger and frustration, which did not make things better but at least stopped people from approaching him, from thinking him weak. It was the one thing the conqueror of the world would never allow himself to be anymore – weak.

Alexander stared with unseeing eyes down to the river, licked absentmindedly over his ever dry lips – they were maddening! – and reached up with his hand to scratch at his clammy, frowned forehead. _Why couldn't you just be who I wanted you to be, Hephaistion? As if things aren't difficult enough as they are! _His hand turned into a tense fist as he lowered it.

Soon, he would be free. Free from the invisible confines of a love reaching beyond friendship, beyond what a mere mortal could choose to put aside. Hephaistion could not stay, but he would never be allowed to leave either. _Your life has always been mine! If you think that by leaving you can change that, your end will prove you wrong! _

Even these thoughts were torture, and the roots of a feeling that never failed to cause panic to build inside of him, had grown so deep that it took every bit of his willpower to suppress his fears. _I am not weak!_ He focused his eyes to search for a victim, feeling how a faint trembling had taken over his body. "You! Stop your damned daydreaming and do as you have been told! Should I have you executed to make an example for the others!"

The young soldier dropped the pile of wood he had been carrying in shock, but had the wits to immediately start collecting the branches again after mumbling a frightened apology. It had been an order from the king himself, to gather as much wood as possible…

_It will be a great pyre, if the rest of this damned army will cooperate. _Alexander thought. _When did I allow my guards to become this slow? Have I not threatened them enough, and meant it? _He swirled around and found himself faced with a brown-haired man with stern, dark eyes, who immediately bowed and addressed him softly but clearly: "My king."

Alexander sent him a vicious look and turned his attention to the small horse the other had been leading by the reins. The brown beast held his head high, and looked with alert eyes and ears to the men who were working near the cool water in the distance. The mount was almost a mockery of the great task upon the shoulders of its master… Alexander would have sent him back to get another, had the preparations not already taken way too long. The rush of panic that spread through him at the thought that Hephaistion might escape made his heart hammer in his chest. He swallowed hard.

The guard looked at him, his intelligent eyes serious and his lips a thin line. It was a hard man who had not shown any hesitation as Alexander had voiced his plan earlier. Someone cold-blooded, who took his king's ill temper with grace, without annoying him further. Without reminding him of Hephaistion. Someone he could actually stand being around… At least normally.

"Well!" Alexander lashed out with a wild motion of his hand as the other didn't move. "Don't tell me I need to explain it to you again! You said you could do this!"

Oh, if only the world would cooperate!

The man nodded, then took a deep breath, his eyes glinting with eagerness. "My lord, another matter needs to be spoken of. What to do with the Persian, should he be with… _him_."

Alexander gritted his teeth, realising he had not yet thought of that. _The whore, my little Persian eunuch. _After a moment he replied, a look of disgust still on his features: "It matters little. Let him go free and find his own death. Or attack him first so that Hephaistion may die defending him, I'm sure he'd appreciate such a noble death."

"For your own safety, my lord, I'd advise ending his life as well. He will know that.. the _other's_ death was not by the hands of the barbarians."

"You know the truth, should I end your life!" Alexander bit at him in exasperation, glad that he finally had a reason to teach someone a lesson. He drew his blade with frightening speed and the soldier backed away in a quick reflex as the cold steel reached out for the sensitive skin on his neck. But in a mere second the man stopped himself and drew himself tall.

The point of his sword was an inch from the other's neck. Alexander knew the man was a brilliant fighter, one of the best, one who could make anyone's death a quick one. Someone who fought best under pressure. And someone who was so loyal he would not run from his king, even when his life was threatened.

His anger ebbed away - if ever for a short moment - and was replaced by hard resolve. "Take my sword, and do it." The man looked at him with a hint of surprise, but reacted swiftly and took the offered weapon, then drew his own sword and tossed it aside. Alexander motioned to the horse. "Go. Do with the boy what you see fit. I care naught about him."

_I can rid myself of two burdens at once, and start again in a new world._

"Thank you, my king." A ferocious grin spread over the other's lips.

Alexander wondered at this reaction, the dark tone in the other man's voice, hearing the hate in his voice that seemed to spoke of a personal grudge against the Persian. It would once have upset him.

But only a bitter laugh left his mouth when he discovered the boy's dark eyes looking at him from behind one of the tents, right after his personal assassin had cantered off in a cloud of dust.


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry that it took so long, I kind of forgot I was posting this story here. Oo

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"Why are _you_ here?" Alexander asked with a mixture of contempt and surprise in his voice.

It surprised him even more that the Persian did not shun his gaze, but stared back, serious sadness on his face. He emerged from behind the tent without hesitation, revealing his slim form, dressed in old clothes that were too wide and still dusty. Not half as beautiful and attractive as he had been in old times. _How is it possible Hephaistion wants him? Did they find… love? _A sudden feeling of dizziness made him blink.

Alexander felt another moment of uneasiness as he realised Bagoas still showed no fear. "Did you hear my words just yet?" he bit. "I just allowed that man to kill you…or worse! I said I cared naught." Anything to stop the other's silent approach, but it didn't work.

"My life has always been yours, Alksander," Bagoas said softly. The dark-haired walked closer, halted two meters away. He seemed changed.

"Yes," Alexander agreed with an unstable voice, "yes, that's right. You are mine… But you stayed with Hephaistion!" He had almost spat the name, as new anxiety took over. "You let him use you…"

He recalled when he had found out Hephaistion had rescued Bagoas, and had understood immediately. Another way to oppose him. Another way for silent criticism. Hephaistion would never give up. And Hephaistion never came back…

Bagoas shook his head slowly. "I would sooner die."

"Then why didn't you," Alexander breathed, his face a mask of battling emotions – fear the worst of them. There was something inching closer to him, some dark form of certainty he had miscalculated somewhere. _Will my people turn against me? _

His mind was suddenly drawn back to the day he had left Bagoas alone in the desert, the day the young eunuch had spoken of Hephaistion… The soft words were etched in his mind.

_"I will kill him for you, Alksander. I know fast poison_."

After he had struck the Persian in his fury, his fist making hard contact with the other's fragile cheekbone, Bagoas had just sat there, shuddering silently. Even as he was left behind.

And Alexander's blood had boiled. _No one plans his death but me – he is mine! He belongs to me in every way, he has from the start. He is under my personal protection… even if he doesn't know it. _

Bagoas' full lips, under a too thin face with too large eyes, turned into a sad smile. "He came back, Alksander, then I saw it. I thought you did as well, so I did not interfere."

Alexander's mouth tensed. _He must have gone insane. _"Stop your babbling. It's too late."

A delicate frown formed on the Persian's forehead, his eyes anguished. "Alksander, you _must_ know you will die, if he dies!"

A new, ice-cold fear spread through his insides, settled in his chest. Ready to set new panic free. "Oh? Who would avenge him, you?" A fake laugh left Alexander's throat.

"I am saving you! Please, do you not understand? You cannot live if he dies! Your fates are…together."

Alexander nearly gasped, his eyes growing painful from a pressure building within him. With the last bit of strength, he tried to keep up his mocking tone of voice, holding himself together. "What has he turned you into? Has he taught you how to read the stars now?"

There was true confusion and fear on Bagoas' face. "I read his eyes! I see yours… You love him, how can you not understand anymore?"

"I don't want to understand!" The shockwave finally hit him. Unable to control his fists he rammed into the Persian's lithe frame, until Bagoas let himself fall down and hid his face.

Alexander was on the edge of a revelation, he knew, the edge of persuasion and the edge of despair. And he did not want to go there. "I don't want to! I don't – want to! I will free myself and-"

It was the first time ever Bagoas interrupted him. "Do you want to die! From inside out? Do you wish to buy your death with false freedom? You _know_!"

"Stop!" Alexander roared, lashing out with his boot into Bagoas' ribs to silence him.

And the other was silent, curled up into a little ball on the ground, breathing harshly.

Sudden regret flooded through the king, as strongly and quickly as his blind panic had done. It was a strange feeling, something that seemed to set snakes loose in his stomach, as he looked down on what he had created himself. _A perfect denial. I used to love him... _A shuddering breath left his lungs as Alexander knelt down next to the silently crying form. He slowly laid his hand on the other's arm…his fingers tightening as he noticed his own watery eyes. "No," he groaned through clenched teeth. _Why does he have to be so weak! Why am I…?_

A loud, desperate curse left his mouth as he jumped up, his eyes spotting the sword his guard had tossed aside earlier. Two steps and he grabbed it off the ground, and he blindly ran towards his own tent. "Get me a horse, now!"

Shocked faces stared at him, and Alexander felt the urge to strangle them with his own hands as they didn't react. But he had no time. "_Now_, I said!"

Someone pointed him towards a large grey mount that stood not far away. Even in his haste Alexander saw the irony. _Hephaistion's own horse!_ The boy who had just taken the horse down to the water let go of the reins as soon as his king mounted, his eyes wide. The stallion reared, and Alexander gripped the mane tightly with his one free hand and held on. "You will obey," he bit to the horse, "for your master."

He saw the faces around him, and in a flash of clarity he laughed out loud. _That this what has become of me… Of us, Hephaistion! Look at them! _

He dug his heels into the horse's flanks. _Cloud_, he thought, _run now! Go!_ The strong stallion spurted forward with a large leap, the white in his eyes reflecting his rider's anxiety.

Reality seemed further away than ever.


	7. Chapter 7

Eeevil cliffhanger ahead...

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It had been long since he had ridden a horse this strong and eager. Somewhere in the back of his mind it reminded him of Bucephalos and his younger days, and there was something in the stallion's strong canter pace and the urgency of his mission that made Alexander want to glance back… He could see his companion riding half a pace behind him, the way he had done so many times, his face serious and his eyes focused on the road ahead.

_You're not there. You're not real! _He had no need for a young Hephaistion to be riding with him now, or ever again. It was all gone, gone from the moment his friend and lover had decided that some things were more important than what they shared.

When Hephaistion noticed Alexander was looking at him, he flashed a smile, and for a moment it threw Alexander of guard. He took a sharp breath. "Go away!" He swung the sword, still secure in his grip, blindly behind him while he steered Cloud in the right direction. The way a lonesome set of other hooves had made its way on the moist ground.

A large leap almost made him loose his balance.

"Too late, Alexander, it's too late for you."

He knew, he _knew_, no one had said those words. They were always fake.

His attention was drawn by another sound, something unmistakably more real, yet seemingly out of place here on the quiet river bank. But the clatter of weapons meant it was not over yet. The horse nearly reared when he pulled the reins sharply and took in the situation. A breath, then he spurred it forwards again.

Hephaistion was standing with his back towards him. The assassin had a dark look on his face. His gaze wavered for one moment as Alexander approached, enough to break his concentration and the other man took his chance to twist away, out of his reach. The alertness of Hephaistion's motions told Alexander that he realised the danger was coming from two sides now.

It all happened too fast. Alexander raised his sword and struck out with the blunt side against the dark hair. Something cracked.

For a moment, everything was silent except for Alexander's own heavy breathing and the small gasp from the other man's mouth as he looked down upon the figure lying limp on the ground. He knelt down, his fingers searching for a pulse. Two startling blue eyes flashed up, dark with anger. "You killed him!"

Alexander looked at him, slightly confused, and gave a small shrug. His breathing was still harsh between his parted lips as he replied: "I…did." He smiled a little.

Hephaistion took a deep breath, closing his eyes for one moment, then rose. Fresh blood stained his torn left sleeve but he hardly seemed to notice.

The king took the reins in one hand and slipped off his horse. "He tried to kill you," he explained.

He received a sarcastic look, but to his surprise Hephaistion's eyes were shining with tears. "And he thought of that by himself? Come now, Alexander!"

"Does it matter? He's gone now." The dead man was the last thing on his mind. Everyone was replaceable, he liked to think, the point was that there was one person who didn't seem to be. Which was the reason he was here…with a mind full of thoughts and without a clue what to do.

"Of course he's gone!" The other bit at him. "Which one of your most loyal subjects have you _not_ tried to kill by now? What's wrong with you!" Hephaistion's voice was desperate, as were his questioning eyes. Still hoping for an answer…

_Everything's wrong, don't you see, Hephaistion? _Alexander shook his head. "It doesn't really matter."

"Nothing matters anymore, does it? You planned all of this…" Hephaistion's voice dropped to a whisper, but his eyes never left Alexander's. "Why did you stop it?"

_Yes, why did I? _He remembered large brown eyes that looked at him in desperation. He spoke slowly. "Because you can't leave me."

Hephaistion was silent for a while, stared straight ahead. Finally he looked up. "So now you want me to stay again? Have you not learned yet I am not your puppet?"

His hands clenched to fists, and the handle of the sword still in his hand seemed to burn. "Oh I've learned." Alexander's voice was dark. "I have no choice, I can't let you go." Hephaistion would have to go back with him.

"Why? Do you love me?"

The question caught him off-guard, and he stared at Hephaistion in shock. _This man…_ "Oh please!" he snapped. "I _hate_ you for what you've done to me. I… hate you for opposing me at every opportunity. You promised you'd be there, but you were just…" He realised that this was not what he had wanted to say, as unwelcome tears burned behind his eyes. _I can't let you stay! But if you go…_

"I was there! I always was!" Hephaistion's voice broke and he coughed, then he bowed his head and laid his fingers on his own temple. Completely vulnerable.

But to his surprise, Alexander didn't have the urge to hurt him any longer. This was all beyond that. They felt like just Alexander and Hephaistion again, who were caught up in a situation beyond what either of them would have ever thought…and he was tired of this, and he knew he was not the only one. But it was not, had never been, his fault. "You lie, and you know it! You always disagreed with me! You never tried to understand how hard it is to-"

Hephaistion's head shot up. "We've been through this before! Why do you refuse to understand me?" He dropped his hand, and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. "You can't… this _can't_ be about that still. Tell me it's not."

Alexander's eyes said all that needed to be said. "I don't ever want to deal with you again. With the way you make me feel." It was quiet for a moment, as Alexander pondered the truth of his own words. Somehow, it all seemed so unavoidable.

"Then kill me." Hephaistion took a long, slow breath, his face showing exactly how tired he really was.

Alexander didn't resist as the other gripped the hand that held his sword, then lifted it to rest the blade against his own neck.


	8. Chapter 8

He was a fighter, he never gave up. If there was an obstacle, there was always a way around it, or over it. Hephaistion knew he was seen as quiet man with little ambition, but everyone who had served with him or under him had found out that underneath that, was a strong willpower, a tough man with his own beliefs and ideals. They had not often stood aside.

But now, a sharp death was placed on his shoulder, stinging coldly against the skin of his neck, and there was nothing he would do. He only had to make sure it ended here. The truth was, he didn't want to go anywhere, not leave. And he didn't even want to think about staying. Everything was different than he thought it was – it was even worse, and he had no determination left to solve this. A person had to know when to give up.

And death was within his reach, he knew… Angering the lost conqueror was not so hard. _I'm sorry, Alexander, despite all_. "I mean it," he said softly. "If your stubborn pride won't allow me to go, if your hate can't let me stay,-"

"Stop- criticising me! For once, Hephaistion, it's enough!"

To Hephaistion's surprise, it was more of a hopeless sadness that he read on Alexander's face than anger, and he unconsciously bit the inside of his lip.

"You never stopped, did you? Even when we parted I could read on your face that you never agreed. But you nearly broke me. You placed your sword at my throat one too many times."

"I…" Words suddenly got stuck in Hephaistion's throat. _Is he speaking the truth?_ "Alexander… I was ever at your side."

Hephaistion saw Alexander's hand tighten around his weapon, felt the pressure increase. "That's what you said then, it's what you always claimed, as you surely remember." His voice was hard. "I _wanted_ to believe you. But I nearly lost myself."

_You did lose yourself!_ Hephaistion lowered his head once more, and words of an earlier conversation drifted into his mind. _"I did not cause his madness, nor can I cure it."_ He tried his best to convince himself he had not known… but suddenly found it hard to. _Have I not denied it to myself as well?_ "Then end it. I ask you to. My life is yours."

When he looked up Alexander's eyes had tightened. "If only it was. It's I who belongs to _you_. If I kill you, my own end would inevitably follow."

"Would that be so bad?" He had asked the question before even realising it and swallowed. Oh, he felt what Alexander wanted still, knew it had to be another cause of his frustration. Leaving the end of the world behind forever. It had all worsened from that point. _But it was me…_ "By the memories from even longer ago, Alexander, I tell you: the world will never be the way you want it again. Whatever path you choose, it will never lead forward again."

"And that is how the legend will end. Alexander killed his Hephaistion, then died of grief over his own mistake." Alexander's voice trembled and his eyes stared over Hephaistion's shoulder, his gaze following the tip of his sword into the trees beyond.

Hephaistion knew what Alexander was looking at. The ways out of here, the ways out of this situation that all seemed equally wrong.

A little smile played on the king's lips.

_He smiles? What madness is next?_ Hephaistion's throat was suddenly feeling very dry. "What do you see?" he whispered.

"They'd be wrong." Alexander's eyes returned to his. "You never were my Hephaistion, were you? You've never belonged to anyone but yourself."

Hephaistion opened his mouth without a sound, then breathed out: "You… you can't really believe that. You know better."

A burden seemed to have fallen of the other's shoulders, even though he hardly seemed to have heard Hephaistion's words. He lowered the sword. "Did you call it Cloud?"

"What?" _He really has lost his mind!_

Alexander motioned with his hand. "Your horse."

Hephaistion blinked. "I… Rain."

"Ah." The blond man smiled again. "Come, we're going back to camp."

He just stood. Somewhere, Alexander's mind had made a leap beyond his comprehension. _I thought it was too late? Where are you taking us now, Alexander?_

"If you're wondering if that was an order: no it wasn't." He climbed on Rain, who seemed completely at ease, then looked back. "It's just the truth."

It was, Hephaistion knew. He would go back, if Alexander wanted him to. If Alexander wanted him to be strong once more. Yet hope mingled with fear and uncertainty, and the question burned on his lips. _Why?_ It seemed all he could do was…trust Alexander. And he was by no means sure he did. "I will not-" he started. "I won't be the person you want me to be. I cannot do that. I won't start lying for you."

"I know," Alexander replied, completely calm. "Where's his horse?"

Hephaistion's eyes strayed to the man on the ground. Dead eyes. As his own could have been, perhaps should have been. He took another deep breath, then turned to the left. "He hid it there, not far away."

"But you had already heard him," Alexander added. A wave of his hand told Hephaistion to move in the right direction.

Hephaistion shook his head and complied. _How long can you keep this up? Can /we/ keep this up? Until we kill each other in public?_ But Alexander was right…there really was no choice to make.

The small mare stood fastened to a tree, a little distance back, and Hephaistion freed it and led it back to where Alexander was still waiting. He felt resentment for the fact that the other man had taken Rain from him…it told him that Alexander, too, would not change. _If that can be our agreement. It would be a balance, but only for the strength of both our made up minds – if one of us lets go, it will be the end. Can Alexander be serious about this? Does he even trust himself? Or is this betrayal once more? _

Alexander's own sword, the one Hephaistion had recognized immediately, had been tossed aside as the assassin had fallen. "Your sword, Alexander."

"I'll get myself a new one."

Hephaistion sighed, then lifted the corpse upon the mare's shoulders and mounted behind it. _Someone who died for his king. Don't we all, sooner or later?_


	9. Chapter 9

The fire spread through the pyre quickly. But even as the heat increased and the skin on his face seemed to be aflame itself, Hephaistion refused to take a step back. Too close – too close to this pyre being his own. Or in fact, he knew it _was_ his own.

Guilt, anger and a deep melancholy had settled over him, after they had returned. Guilt, because he had so effectively blinded himself to the truth of their past, for all this time. Anger, because Alexander's pride had so easily replaced his love. And now, it was too late to change anything.

Hephaistion stood separated from the rest, not only closer to the fire than the others, but the other generals and soldiers deliberately kept their distance from him. They were as unsure what to make of Alexander's decision to move Hephaistion's tent back to its old place, near Alexander's own, as Hephaistion was. Not that the king had given him any more attention after that, though Hephaistion would get a stern nod every now and then, as they passed each other. As far as he knew, Alexander again considered him a general. Or maybe not.

Alexander stood just within his view, his face solemn and unreadable as he stared into the flames. He had laid his right arm around Bagoas, who gratefully rested his head against his king's shoulder. Hephaistion realised he may be here, instead of alone on the road, but he still felt as lost and alone as ever. The fire was rising higher, and small sparks danced around him. The heat was almost unbearable. Hephaistion closed his eyes. 

Someone stepped up beside him. "Trying to get yourself killed?"

Hephaistion looked up, startled, but recovered quickly. "Not really. You?"

Ptolemy raised one eyebrow, then shook his head. "Come, step back."

With a small shrug, Hephaistion followed the general as he tugged on his arm. As soon as they stopped, he turned his face to the pyre again, avoiding Ptolemy's questioning eyes. He wasn't sure he was ready to explain anything at this moment.

"Have you finally given up?"

Hephaistion sighed inwardly. "I'm here, aren't I?" he responded tiredly.

"Indeed you are." Ptolemy was silent for a moment. "But you puzzle me. Are you on mad Alexander's side now?"

A annoyed sound left Hephaistion's mouth, as he glanced over at the other man. "If anyone would hear you talk like that…" The last thing he needed was yet another person who'd start accusing him of things that he could neither affirm nor deny.

"No one will, just you," Ptolemy answered, his voice holding a trace of sarcasm. He threw a quick glance around to stress the fact that everyone had distanced themselves even further. "What did he do that you came back?" He paused, but as Hephaistion didn't answer right away he added, "What did he do that you started _lying_ for him again?"

Hephaistion's face revealed nothing, but for a tightening of his jaw. It was true. And he had known, as soon as he met Ptolemy's eyes earlier, that the other had seen right through his made-up story. On the moment they had reached camp, he had breached his first promise to Alexander. When shocked faces greeted them, and Alexander had been quiet and refused to look at anyone, Hephaistion had softly stated that Alexander's man had died in a fight against local barbarians, who had thought it a good idea to attack some lonely traveller.

Really, it was as good a truth as any. But still…

Hephaistion pondered his words carefully, then decided with a sharp voice, "What do you suggest I told them? That Alexander sent someone after me to kill me, then jumped on my horse to come and get me back? That he killed the man who only followed his orders, without the slightest sign of being bothered by taking a life, just like that? That he violated everything I stand for, everything I've been trying to keep him from doing all these years, and yet I came _back_?"

The small, surprised huff leaving Ptolemy's mouth did not escape Hephaistion's attention, and his lips formed a wry smile. "Don't you agree that's something between me and Alexander?"

The reprimand wasn't lost on the other man. "That's not what I meant," Ptolemy pointed out softly. "I was just wondering at the power he obviously holds over _you_, even if you claim it's not the other way around."

Hephaistion closed his eyes. "Thank you for pointing that out to me, I hadn't noticed that," he mumbled, but the venom in his voice had lessened. It was time he stopped chasing away the only person that still had the mind and courage to seek him out. He took a deep breath, then finally turned his head back to the other's eyes, and the dancing flames reflected in them. "You know what he told me, Ptolemy?"

It was the general's turn to look away, and he bowed his head before looking up again. He sighed. "No."

"That it's all my fault. That's what it all comes down to, really."

"You know that's a lie," Ptolemy cut him off. "Words from a man who's out of his mind. What could you have done?" They breathed in silence for a few moments, and as Hephaistion made no effort to reply, Ptolemy slowly opened his mouth. "Then again, I can't know that, can I?"

"I'm… I'm only just beginning to understand it myself." Hephaistion's thoughts spun. A part of him wanted to talk about this, wanted for someone else to shed some light on his situation, yet that would call upon a lot of his courage. He felt his mixed emotions rising again. _Damn you, Alexander, why did you have to make things so hard on us both?_ He suddenly felt how the loneliness had been eating its way through his heart, and how it had inevitably made him weaker. "Ptolemy… I don't know what to do. He wants to be strong by himself so badly… I don't know where to start."

When he blinked, the tear that had been threatening to fall made its way down his cheek. He bit his lip hard and kept his eyes closed, willing himself back under control. This was not the place to let go.

Ptolemy stood silently for a while, but didn't reach out to offer comfort, and Hephaistion was grateful. "If you want me to help, I need to know what's going on," he finally said.

"Just stay with me now, if you will. I need to be here." With the last words, Hephaistion's voice had dropped to a whisper again. He needed the confrontation with the flames, with his life, he needed to let his mind wonder in peace. He needed to know he was not alone, too.

"Hephaistion."

He looked up. Ptolemy looked at him, and Hephaistion gave him a questioning look.

"I've seldom seen a man as strong as you."

Hephaistion turned his grim face back to the flames, accepting the complement only by bowing his head to the almighty fire roaring before him. There had been times when strength hadn't felt so weak.


End file.
